


Lights Out

by xxcatrenxx



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27035827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcatrenxx/pseuds/xxcatrenxx
Summary: Started as a one shot on tumblr and I couldn't help myself and wrote a second part.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

The Duct Tape Bar & Grill was the only decent place for miles around to get a good burger and a cold beer. It was the kind of place you loved to spend your Saturday nights. You dressed in your best jeans that hugged your curves just right and threw on your favorite top for a warm summer evening, a Bob Seger shirt you cut into a tank top. After braiding your hair and applying winged eyeliner, mascara, and some highlighter to your cheekbones, you strode out and climbed into your black 1989 Jeep Wrangler affectionately nicknamed ‘Bastard Billy’ for its tendency to break down. It was a pain in the ass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it.

You pulled in one of the spots toward the back of the parking lot, not bothering to lock it up as you took the doors and top off of it at the start of summer. When you walked up the porch that was attached to the front of the bar Joe, the local flirt, called to you, “Hey there gorgeous, what you doing here alone? I’ll keep you company.” You waved him off, dismissing his advance, and opened the door. Credence Clearwater Revival’s song Fortunate Son was playing from the jukebox as you made your way to the bar. 

The solidly built beast of a man behind the bar, Clyde Logan, caught your eye as you saddled up on an open barstool. “Coldest beer ya got, please.” You rested your forearms on the bartop, fingers drumming along the smooth surface in rhythm with the song. 

Clyde brought you a bottle of Budweiser and smoothly removed the cap with his right hand. If you asked him, it was a part of the ‘Logan Family Curse’ that a roadside bomb took his left arm off as he was transpo’ing out of Iraq years ago. He had a real fancy prosthetic, matte black with articulating fingers, however he preferred to tend bar with it off most of the time. There was an inside joke about his old prosthetic that was screwed to a table holding a beer bottle that made him smirk anytime he was asked about it. 

You brought the bottle to your lips and drank, never taking your eyes off Clyde working on some fancy cocktail. The two of you had gone to high school together. He was shy and didn’t know how to handle your bubbly personality, but you caught him checking you out a few times. Once he came back to Boone County after his medical discharge, he bought the bar and fixed it up. Maybe he was the reason you liked the place so much, not the burgers. 

You made small talk with Earl, one of the regulars, about the car he was working on in the shop and the trouble it was giving him. It was hard finding good help these days. After you finished your first beer, you went outside with Earl and bummed a Marlboro from him, “I swear, I quit these things but something about a cold beer and a warm night gets a girl jonesing.” He chuckled as he handed you one and lit it for you when it was between your lips. The smoke swirled in your mouth deliciously. You thanked Earl and leaned against the rail to watch the lightning bugs dance. 

The sound from the dumpster drew you from your daze. You hopped over the rail and walked towards the noise. As you got closer, a fluffy raccoon lumbered off towards the woods with a full mouth. Finishing your cigarette, you walked back into the bar, and Clyde had you a fresh beer before you sat down. “Want your usual?” His voice had the delicious southern twang and drawl that made a woman melt. 

Taking a swing of your beer, “That sounds good. Add a basket of hot chips in there too. Also, you got some raccoons diggin’ round back again. He’s lookin’ pretty thick, whatcha been feedin’ ‘em?” The tease brought a small smirk to the corner of his mouth which made you smile wide against the mouth of the beer bottle. Clyde turned your order into the kitchen. 

It wasn’t late by any means but things were dead in the bar. Clyde told the two waitresses to pack up once their tables finished and instructed the kitchen to close up after the tickets were clear. Your food was done in record time but you had to wait for the fries and chips to cool before you could eat. 

Filling your time, you perused the jukebox and qued a few songs. You looked around and saw the last table settling up their bill and making their way out. Clyde was standing behind the bar wiping down the counter. As you got closer you offered, “Hey Clyde, I can take a to go box home if you wanna close up early. No need for you stayin’ late ‘cause of me.”

He shook his head, “Nah darlin’ ain’t no problem with you stayin’. Now sit down and enjoy yerself.” You giggled when he called you ‘darlin’ and walked back to your seat. Picking up a chip, you tested to see if you could eat them. It was still too hot and you chugged your beer to relieve the burn on the top of your mouth. Clyde chucked as foam flowed from your bottle and onto your shirt. “Now see, dontcha think you’re askin’ for trouble messing up a good Seger shirt like that? And I gotta wipe the bar down again so it don’t get sticky. You better watch it, little lady.” He playful warned with a twitch of an eyebrow and tossed a bar towel to you so you could clean yourself up. 

You had to bite your lip to keep the bratty phrase, ‘or what’ from spilling out. Flirting was nothing new for you and Clyde but he never pushed for more; he was too shy and you were too stubborn to make the first move. 

Picking up your burger, you take the first bite, closing your eyes as you savored the taste. Clyde plopped down next to you with a basket of chicken tenders. He tried to steal one of your fries but you popped his hand, giving him a stern look. 

“Seeya Clyde.” The chef waved from the kitchen window before heading out the back door with the waitresses. With his mouth full of chicken, Clyde mumbled his goodbyes and returned the wave. 

As a peace offering, you slid the basket of chips towards him. He hummed as he picked up a few and dunked them into the cup of sauce in the basket. “I knew you’d warm up to me.” Clyde shoved the whole chips into his mouth, chewing with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

You pushed his shoulder, “Don’t you start with me Clyde Logan. You might just start somethin’ you ain’t prepared to finish.” 

Once his mouth was clear, he took a swig of his beer, “If you’re referin’ to that pool game from last week, ya’ know you don’t stand a chance. If I ’member correc’ly, you were the one to head off to dance and never came back.” 

Rolling your eyes, “It’s on big man. I’m gonna wipe that shit-eatin’ grin off your face tonight.”

Both of you ate quickly, eager to play pool. Clyde insisted on racking while you twirled your pool cue. “You think you’re one of them fancy Star-whatever people, huh?” He chided which only annoyed you more.

“I wouldn’t be here playing with a stick if you fixed your balls faster.” You intentionally trailed your hand down the pool cue suggestively, letting your head fall back in laughter as he groaned. “Come on big man, loosen up! How about this, for every ball you pocket, you get to ask a question that the other has to answer? You know it sounds like fun.” You wagged your eyebrows excessively. 

Clyde removed the rack and motioned for you to start. “Be prepared to answer a lotta questions darlin’ ’cause I ain’t gonna take it easy on ya.” 

As you lined up your shot, Clyde trailed behind you drinking his beer. You pretended not to notice him checking out your ass. The crack of pool balls colliding overshadowed the jukebox for a moment until you spoke up when you sank a striped ball into a side pocket. “Looks like I’m comin’ in hot. First question… who was your first?” You sipped your beer while watching for a reaction. 

He tipped his head low as if to say ‘really?’ “If you must know, it was Loretta Calhoun while in high school. She cornered me at the bonfire on her property junior year. ‘Cause of that, I don’t got no love for hay, it’s so hard to get out of hair.” He scratched his head at the memory, wincing as if he still felt it. 

“I know what I’m gettin’ you for your birthday now.” You smirked as you assessed your next shot. “Watch out there, I’d hate to hit you where the sun don’t shine Clyde.” Bending forward until your chest was flat with the table, you lined up your cue and hit. You misjudged the amount of force needed and ended up only spreading things out further. 

Frustrated, you downed the rest of your beer and tossed it in the recycling bin with a clink. “Go grab ya another one, sweetheart. You’re gonna need it for all this talkin’ you’re ‘bout to do.” You kicked off your flip flops, walked barefoot behind the bar, collected two bottles, and sauntered back to the pool table. 

Clyde sank two balls on his first hit. The smart-ass grin was back on his face as he walked to you, pulling the bottle opener from his back pocket and popping the top on both beers. “So I get a two’fer. Tell me your first.” He took a swing of his beer. “And your most recent.” 

You nearly choked at his second request. Clyde was never this forward and you quite enjoyed it. “You’re gonna laugh. My first was James Bennett at the same bonfire in the bed of his truck. No tolerance for alcohol and an unlimited supply of vodka do not make for smart decisions.” Taking a larger gulp of your beer, “My most recent… had to be a while back when I worked at the animal rescue over in Lincoln County. His name was Jake… Something. Needless to say, it wasn’t that memorable.” Clyde nodded unassumingly as he took his next shot, sinking another ball. 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth while scratching his facial hair in thought. “You ever been with someone and not been in a relationship?” Clyde tried to hide how he worried with his lip after he asked. 

“Mr. Logan. Are you asking me if I’ve had a one night stand or a friend with benefits?” You watched him fidget and enjoyed every moment of it.

Hesitantly, “Both… both is good.” tumbled from his mouth as he drank his beer. 

You chucked at his nervousness, it was adorable. Clyde was always a gentleman and you found it cute when he became embarrassed by lewd subjects. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed a finger from the hand that held you beer across his broad shoulders as you passed him. “No one night stands, I gotta trust someone before they get the goods. Never had no friend with benefits neither.” Sipping your beer, you timed your next statement with his shot. “But, I wouldn’t say no to the right friend.”

The cue ball completely missed its intended target. You shimmied past him and decided your next move. When the ball landed in the pocket, you pounced, “What about you, Lucky Logan? When was the last time you got some action?” 

“You gotta start comin’ up with your own questions, sweetheart.” He tried to avoid the question. Firmly shaking your head, he wasn’t getting out of this just like that. Clyde groaned again and ran his fingers through his hair. “It was with Jemma before I shipped out for the second tour.” Jemma was his ex who left him and moved to Tennessee with her boss when Clyde told her about his arm. 

Ouch. That did not go the direction you thought it would. “I’m gonna need some vodka.” You returned to the bar to grab the bottle of your favorite vodka and set two shot glasses on the side of the pool table. Lifting the double shot in the air, you and Clyde clinked a silent toast and threw back the shot. “Whew… I’ll pay for this tomorrow. I haven’t had liquor in years. Where were we? Oh yes, my turn.” You squeezed his prosthetic hand as you passed him, a gesture of comfort you hope he accepted. 

After making another shot, you boldly asked. “Why ain’t you never made a move Clyde? We flirt and I like the looks of you and I think you like the looks of me. So, what’s stoppin’ you?” You grabbed the cue stick with both hands and rested your head on your wrist. 

He stammered, unsure what to say and how to answer. “I just thought you were bein’ nice, not that you were really interested. I’m no good at readin’ people like I am books. Plus, everything changed after I got back.” 

You offered him a tender smile, “Clyde Logan, you’re a better man than you give yerself credit for. Any lady would be lucky to have you, you got a heart of gold. That metal and plastic don’t take away from that.” Taking a deep breath and shifting on your feet, “But you aren’t gonna get me distracted by this sappy stuff just to win.” You chuckled to lighten the atmosphere. 

When the cue ball cracked against its target, the lights went out. “What the— what did you do woman?” Clyde laughed loudly. 

Shrieking, “It wasn’t me! Clyde… What do we do? I can’t see a damn thing.” You heard his hip hit the pool table quickly followed by a short grunt. Doing the best you could, you felt your way along the pool table trying to find him. A mischievous grin spread across your face, “Marco.”

Clyde huffed, amused, “Polo.” 

He sounded further away than he was before the lights shut off. You repeated in a sing-song voice, “Mar…cooo…” while stretching your hands out in front of you. 

You huffed when he didn’t respond right away. “Polo” he murmured beside you, causing you to jump. Reaching towards where he just was you found only a chair. 

“Clyde… this isn’t fair. You’ve got like supersonic vision at night.” You moved closer towards the bar hoping to find him there. If not, he usually kept a flashlight tucked under the sink but who knew if the batteries were still good. 

Taking tentative steps, you slowly crept across the open floor in the general direction of your goal. 

Clyde was utterly silent in his movements, so when he snaked his arms around your waist from behind, you nearly jumped out of your skin. The heat of his chest against your back was more intoxicating than the beer and liquor combined. Securely wrapped in his strong arms, Clyde heatedly whispered in your ear, “Polo.” before he kissed your neck. 

His plush lips felt better than you imagined against your skin. A low moan escaped your mouth as his tongue trailed your pulse point. As quickly as he appeared, he had disappeared again. 

Groaning in frustration, “Clyde, that really wasn’t fair. You move slower than a month of Sundays and when ya finally get there, you don’t give me the chance to join ya.” As if he could see, you exaggeratedly placed your hands on your hips. 

You heard a deep chuckle from across the room. “You want me, sweetheart…” Listening carefully, you heard his boots trod along the floor, “Come get me.” 

Now that your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, you saw movement at the table tucked in the corner. Moving as quiet as you could on your bare feet, you tiptoed to try and sneak up behind him. Crouching behind a booth, you peaked around to see where he was. Confused, you pouted because he had moved. Standing up to scan the room, you turned and crashed straight into a chair and stumbled forward. 

Clyde caught you instantly and pulled you up to him, you could feel his warm breath as he breathed. “You a’ight, darlin’?” 

Stunned to silence, you only nodded your head. His chest was harder than you thought possible and he had the perfect little beer belly that balanced out his form. 

Feeling a hand slide down and grip your ass, Clyde groaned. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.” He continued to flex his palm, massaging the wealth of flesh that clung to your backside. 

Emboldened by his actions, “Well, since we’re doing things we’ve always wanted to…” you lanced your fingers through his hair and pulled his face to yours. The bristle of facial hair tickled as you settled into a rhythm. You knew he would be a good kisser by how he always worked his mouth when thinking and talking. A sigh, bordering on a moan, flowed from your mouth to his when Clyde’s thumb hooked under the line of your jeans and traced the edge of your underwear. 

He bit gently into your bottom lip when he realized you were wearing a thong. “You drive me crazy woman.” Clyde resumed the kiss with more force, his tongue wrestling with yours and you felt his swollen cock press into your torso. Dropping one hand from his hair, you stroke him over his jeans and his head falls back with a deep moan. 

This was it. It was finally happening. And it was going to be in the Duck Tape with the lights out and the moon would be the only witness. 

Taking control, you released his belt, jeans button, and zipper while you sucked and kissed his neck before pushing Clyde to sit in the chair you almost fell over. He ripped his button up shirt off with one hand and you paused. You could hear the smirk, “What? It’s magnets.” and he threw it on the table behind you. 

With his help, you pulled down his tight jeans far enough to get access to his cock. Instantly, you were on your knees with him in your mouth. He tasted so good, the perfect mix of salty and tangy as he leaked his arousal on your tongue. You worked him with your mouth and hands until your jaw was sore. 

Coming up for air, Clyde pulled you by your hair and forced you back on the table so your legs draped over his shoulders. He yanked your pants and thong off and feasted on you like it was his last meal. His seat in the chair gave him the perfect access to spread you open and taste all of you. You rose to rest on a forearm while your other hand held Clyde’s head so you could fuck yourself on his face. 

The cold sensation creeping into your trembling core made you gasp. While sucking your clit, Clyde had inserted two fingers of his prosthetic into you and worked his arm expertly so he rubbed your g spot continuously. “Fuck Clyde… yes… don’t stop… please… I’m so close…” 

Clyde’s right hand weaved under your shirt and he moaned when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra and your nipples were rock hard for him. The vibration against your clit and the sharp pinch of your nipple was the final push you needed for release. You cried his name as your orgasm rolled through your body. Clyde slowed as you came down and stopped shortly after you released his head. 

You worked on evening your breath but lost it the moment he spoke, “Baby girl, we’re just gettin’ started.” Clyde had snaked his arm under your back and pulled you towards his lap. “You wanna do this?” He panted. 

To answer his question you grabbed him firmly, aligned him with your soaked entrance, and sank down until your ass was resting on his thighs. 

The obscene moan that poured from your throat as he split you wide open spurred Clyde to buck his hips up into you, massaging your cervix with his cockhead in a painfully delicious way that made you see stars. “You feel so good, sweetheart.” He mumbled into your throat as he kissed and sucked, leaving a trail of hickies. 

Even after having him in your mouth, Clyde’s substantial size surprised you as you felt your body stretch to accommodate him. Repeating the movements you used to fuck his face, you rolled your hips and bounced when you needed to feel all of him. Curses that would make a sailor blush poured from your lips as he worked your body to its breaking point. 

You were so far gone that you didn’t realize he had pushed you back to lay on the table and was pounding into you hard enough to knock over chairs to join the condiment bottles on the floor. When his right hand circled your clit, the rubberband around your core snapped, “Fuck Clyde, I’m cummin’!”

Your back arched off the table but he didn’t slow, if anything, he was fucking you harder and faster. “Yes… be a good girl, cum on daddy’s cock.” His dirty talk had new waves of euphoria course through you like lightning. 

“Fuck me daddy, fuck your baby girls tight little cunt before you cum in my mouth.” The words left your mouth without a second thought and Clyde pulled you off the table and pushed you to your knees in front of him. He furiously palmed his cock in your face. “Please daddy, your good girl wants her treat.” and you opened your mouth wide to stick out your tongue, positioning yourself under his cockhead. 

Clyde came on your face and in your mouth with thick spurts. He worked his mouth watching you lick his spent off your lips and fingers as you cleaned your face. 

He helped you up from the floor before he situated himself back into his pants. You picked up your jeans but your thong was nowhere to be found. Turning back to Clyde, he shrugged as he stuffed the black fabric into his front pocket. “You’re buyin’ breakfast then. I want Waffle House and you better make sure they burn my bacon like I like.” 

While pulling on your jeans, Clyde walked to the breaker box and flipped the fuses and the lights flickered on. He walked over and picked up your flip flops to bring them to you with a smile on his face. Dumbfounded, you asked, “You’re tellin’ me you knew what happened and you still tried to blame me for it?”

His chuckle was a rare and wonderful thing to see. “It ain’t my fault the town over is working on new electrical lines and triggered the fuses a few times this week. If they don’t quit they’re gonna buy me a new fuse box.” 

Clyde pulled you into his arms, “But come on, I owe my baby girl some bacon and waffles.” 

You propped up on your tiptoes and kissed his lips, “Thanks daddy.” and pulled him towards your Jeep. 


	2. Chapter 2

After the first night in the bar, you and Clyde had settled into a comfortable routine. Hanging out at the bar, fucking after work and on days off, but respecting your time alone and not feeling the need to define what it was that the two of you were enjoying together. **  
**

One night at the bar, you were outside with Earl smoking and heard the tale-tell rumble from the garbage. Walking slowly, you approached the dumpster, listening to something rummage inside. You peaked over the edge to see the round raccoon you affectionately named Reginald, or Reggie for short, stuck inside. “Daww Reggie, ya gettin’ too fat for this.” Pulling the 2x4 excess from when Clyde fixed up the front porch, you slid it into the dumpster and made a ramp for Reggie. He waddled up the ramp and hesitated at the top, allowing you to pet him before he scampered back into the woods.

Entering through the back door, you walked down the hall to find Clyde sitting in his office balancing the books. “Heya Clyde, Reggie’s back. He’s been eatin’ real good and got stuck in the dumpster again.”

He shook his head, “I told ya not ta name ‘em. Yer gonna get attached ‘n when he doesn’t show up one day yer gonna be all heartbroken ‘n I can’t do a damn thing ‘bout it.” You mocked him, miming your mouth to his and shaking your head back and forth. This wasn’t the first time you had heard this speech from him and wouldn’t be the last.

Clyde caught you in the act, “Don’t be givin’ me mouth darlin’, ‘less yer putin’ that mouth ‘round my cock.” He looked up at you with a devilish smirk on his face. 

You raised an eyebrow at him in a warning. “I ain’t scared o’ ya Clyde Logan.”

He growled and pounced from his desk and caught you before you reached the door. Clyde’s chest had you pinned to the wall with your back to him. “Ya shouldn’t be scared… ya should be very… very… excited.” Picking you up by the hips so you were on your tiptoes, he rolled his hips against your ass, letting you feel his hardening length. “Think ya can be quiet?” He whispered as he began kissing along the nape of your neck. you nodded eagerly, already working to undo your jeans. 

“Good girl.” He praised, working his own belt and pants to free his erection. you turned to try and suck on that glorious cock of his but he held you flush to the wall with his bionic hand. Clyde pulled his right hand in front of your face and pushed two thick fingers into your mouth. Moaning around the intrusion, you sucked and swirled until it was dribbling down your chin. 

Clyde laced his hand between your legs and found you slit soaking, “Ya didn’t need that at all, yer already drippin’ fer me.” He purred with his mouth against your ear, licking a hot stripe from your neck along the youll before pulling it between his teeth. His fingers plunged into your core, stretching you open in preparation for his cock. Even though they’ve fucked a few times by now, you was also so fucking tight for him. 

Spitting on his right hand, he stroked his cock a few times before lining up with your entrance. “Stay quiet fer me now darlin’.” and he slowly pressed his cockhead past you swollen lips and into that warm wet hug that felt like home. Clyde set a slow pace, enjoying the drag of his cock against you trembling walls. you needed more, he knew this, but this was just too much fun to tease you. He wanted you begging for him, whimpering despite your best efforts to stay quiet. 

He moaned in your ear, breath hot on your face, your neck shining from his affection. “Yer always so fuckin’ tight fer me. FUCK… I love ruinin’ this perfect cunt er’rytime I bury my fat cock in ya. So damn deep ya feel it in yer stomach.” you had pulled your lips between your teeth trying to hold back the moans that were breaking in your throat. Clyde moved his right hand against your stomach, the soft swell plush in his hand as he pressed in, “I swear I can fuckin’ feel my cock movin’ in ya… it’s so fuckin’ hot.” 

The whimpers had started to escape from your mouth, now bitting your fist in a useless attempt to muffle the sound. Clyde knew you was close, you had lost the strength in your legs and was depending on him to hold you, completely at his mercy and he pounded into you continuously. 

“Ask me nicely ‘n I’ll let ya cum…” He bit your shoulder pulling a gasping moan from your open mouth.

Clyde growled, “That ain’t quiet ‘n that ain’t askin’. Try again.” While his left arm held you up around your waist, his right hand trailed between your legs, furiously stroking you clit. 

Silent screamed made your jaw drop and face contort with pleasure, “Pp.. Please… C…Clydeeee.” you whined. 

He chuckled and his chest rumbled against you back. “Tyoue’s my girl… cum fer me ‘n I’ll fill this sweet lil pussy up with my cum. Have ya walkin’ round the bar all night with it drippin’ down yer legs.” His words in your ear and his fingers on you clit combined with the dominating pace his cock claimed you pushed you over the edge. You bit down on your forearm to suppress the pleasurable moans that racked through your body. Clyde followed you into the bliss and poured thick ropes of cum deep in your throbbing core, hindering his growl behind clenched teeth. Once they both rode out the aftershocks and had come back to planet Earth, Clyde stepped back, helping you fix your pants before situating his own. He pulled you back to sit in his lap while they caught their breaths, sharing the bottle of water sitting on his desk. 

Not a moment later, one of the waitresses came knocking, “Clyde… I need help taking the trash out. The raccoon is back and it scares me.” 

They both chuckled as you got up from his lap. “I’ll handle this one, I need another cig after that anyway.” you grabbed his pack he kept hidden in his desk and walked out of his office like nothing happened.


End file.
